Questing With Erza
by WolFang1011
Summary: Gray gets dragged out for a series of quests by Erza. How bad can it be?
1. Prologue

Her voice came like a Divine rumble from the skies.

"You and I have never done a quest together."

Sometimes, certain sentences gave Gray a bad feeling. He tried not to rely heavily on his instincts – logic was more important – but even a cryomancer of his calibre couldn't ignore the chill that ran down his spine.

Erza Scarlet stood over him, hands on hips and brows furrowed. She'd walked over from the request board like that. Gray didn't track the movement of many people while drinking, but he made an exception for her and Natsu. Erza because you had to always be on guard for her. Natsu because, well, the guy was an asshole.

As he was trying to decipher her look, Gray suddenly remembered that he was holding the flagon to his mouth, the ale lapping against his lips. Forsaking the sip, he put it down on the countertop and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

"Sure we have," he replied. "We've been on plenty of quests together. Ever since you asked Natsu and–"

She shook her head. "No. I meant just the two of us."

"Ahh." Gray shrugged. _Where is she going with this?_ "Then no, we've never been on one."

"We should go on more quests together."

At that, Gray squinted up at her. "Why?"

"Because," Erza said and placed a determined hand on his shoulder. She balled up the other and held it up, equally determinedly. "If you work with me, your skills will improve drastically and you will be able to reach S-class faster."

"I'm in no hurry, you kn–"

"Nonsense! Never leave for tomorrow what can be done today! Up, up, up! I have picked out the perfect quest for us to do!"

And just like that, Gray found himself being dragged by the scruff of his neck out of the guild, towards a quest he knew absolutely nothing about. He knew that protesting was meaningless and, as the entire guild laughed at him, decided to cut his losses. Unlike them, _he'd_ be getting _paid_.

Besides, how bad could questing with Erza be?


	2. Chapter 1

"Please, you must help me find them!" the woman pleaded, her tearful eyes beseeching and searching for sympathy – something Gray did _not_ have to offer. "How stupid I was to leave them all alone like that! All I wanted to do was give them some sun! Next thing I know, they're gone!"

He looked over at Erza, but she was listening intently. He felt like smacking his forehead. The woman went on: "I saw someone running off to the west but I was too frightened to journey into the woods alone. Please... can you help me?"

Erza took the woman's hands in hers and sniffed emotionally.

"Of _course_ we will. Fairy Tail mages never leave a contract unfinished. We shan't rest until you are reunited with your Jumbo potatoes."

"Gods bless you! If I don't have them for the next batch of my famous Potato Bread, I don't know what I'll do!"

Gray smacked his forehead. They'd travelled three hours by train to arrive at a small town called Goldenloaf. All for a lady who'd had her potatoes kidnapped.

 _An entire day of my life I'll never get back. Ugh._

"Of all the quests you coulda picked," he began once they left the woman's house, "you picked this."

"Yes."

"Potato thievery."

"Indeed."

He glared at her. "Why?"

She looked back at him. "Because the woman needed help and I wanted to provide it. Do you not want to accompany me?"

"It just seems petty."

"No such thing, Gray. Either everybody matters or nobody matters."

Sighing, Gray rubbed his face and swallowed his groan. At least he'd be getting paid, he reminded himself.

"Fine. Let's just get this over with."

"That's the spirit!"

The woman had decided to sunbathe her potatoes on a table in her lawn. The terrain was grassy, so tracking wasn't all that difficult. It was the only thing Gray derived some satisfaction out of.

"See, the grass is flattened completely in some places," he said as he knelt to study the scene. "But the colour isn't any different."

"Meaning what?"

"Meaning that if it was flattened by a rock, it'd lose pigment after a while. Since it's the same colour as the rest, it's been flattened recently." He stood up. "There's a pattern to the flattening, too." He pointed. "Right, left, right left."

"Footsteps," said Erza. Gray nodded.

"Yeah. And judging from the stride, it's a pretty huge potato thief. Maybe an ogre. Or a troll."

"With a taste for potatoes." Erza summoned a sword. "Right. Let's follow the tracks. See where it leads us."

The tracks led to a small cave not fifty yards from the town. Gray and Erza exchanged a look and shared a nod. It was time to go in and probably face whatever called the cave home.

So they rushed in, fully expecting a fierce fight.

And found a troll seated on an oversized wooden chair, staring longingly at a pile of potatoes on an equally oversized table. He seemed happy to see them.

As it turned out, the troll used to do the usual troll thing – guard a bridge and ask for a toll. But word had gotten out that he was a vegetarian, and the others in the Troll Bridge Toll Association (TBTA for short) started mocking him. Eventually, he quit and set up shop in the cave, but business was down, and he'd taken to petty thievery.

"Mee wurst troll evurr," he lamented. "Nobuddy pay brijj tole! Me not sceary enuff!"

Then he just started sobbing.

Gray stood there not knowing what to do. Admittedly, this was one of the most bizarre things he had ever encountered. Part of him wanted to awkwardly pat the troll's shoulder and tell him everything would be all right, but he also felt bad about having to take away the potatoes. He didn't want to make him sadder than he already was.

Erza, however, shared none of his hesitance.

"You poor thing!" she exclaimed and pulled the troll's head into her breastplate. The sickening crunch made Gray blanch. "I'll cook you the best vegetarian meal you've ever had and you'll never go hungry again!"

What followed was truly a spectacle. Erza summoned her suitcases of ingredients, and, true to her word, fixed up a purely vegetarian feast for the troll, who was now crying out of happiness. He ate a hearty meal and complimented Erza repeatedly in his broken, troll way and she soaked up every bit of it, though modestly.

 _You sell-out._

But that did the trick, for the troll gave away the potatoes willingly. Gray took them back to the woman while Erza made sure the troll ate every last morsel.

The lady was tending to her garden when he arrived, and she shot to her feet and ran to the garden gate.

"You have them! You have them! Oh, I can _sense_ they're with you!"

"Yes, Ma'am," Gray replied and handed her the satchel of potatoes. "Here you go. Your long lost Jumbo potatoes. All accounted for."

"Oh my goodness," she screeched and snatched the satchel from his hand and peered inside and counted. Then she looked up at him, tears forming at the corners of her eyes. "You found them! _Ohhh_ , I could _kiss_ you!"

Gray held up his hands and backed away. "No need for that. Just, uh, doing our job."

"But as promised, I owe you a–oh." She stopped, staring at something over his shoulder. "Oh my."

Puzzled, Gray looked back, and sighed. Erza was returning, accompanied by the troll. She explained the troll's situation to the townsfolk and had them employ the troll as a guard, to be paid for his services in vegetables.

Problem solving was a skill that Erza had mastered. Just not in the conventional way. What _was_ conventional, however, was the promise of a reward, and Gray was looking forward to getting paid. That would've made all this... ridiculousness worth it.

"For your efforts, I present you with my first batch of Famous Potato Bread!" The woman beamed at them as Gray saw his hopes and dreams crumble before his eyes. "More valuable than Jewel! Enjoy!"

Erza took them almost reverently. "We certainly shall. Much obliged."

The troll even gave her a hug as a parting gift. Gray looked on sourly. She'd had a more profitable day than he did and all he wanted to do was go home to sleep this experience away.

"So, Gray," Erza began as they left the town behind, heading for the train station. "Are you ready for the next quest?"

"Say what now?"

She fanned out a stack of quest requests and smiled at him. "This is a good opportunity for you to get better quickly. You can do so while helping people. Win-win."

Gray's shoulders sagged and he sighed deeply.


	3. Chapter 2

The train didn't stop at Littleleaf for even a half minute. From that alone Gray knew it was a very small town. The station consisted of a sunshade and two platforms. There were lush green meadows on either side. A ticket office could be seen in the distance, but that was it. Littleleaf was one of the most barebones stations Gray had been to.

"So." He glanced at Erza. "We're in the middle of nowhere. Now what?"

"Now, we go to the village," she replied, studying the quest request.

"How?"

"We shall find out." She smiled at him. "Consider it an adventure!"

Gray sighed. Adventures were nice if the adventurers got paid. Then again, all expenses were being paid by Erza, so he couldn't complain.

"Right. Well, we should head for the ticket office. Maybe there'll be someone around who can tell us what to do."

"Good idea."

The man at the ticket office came to meet them himself. He shook both their hands, and welcomed them warmly and profusely. He told them how they were the first visitors to Littleleaf in three years, and that the Gods had finally answered his prayers.

Immediately, Gray had misgivings. The man, who introduced himself as Jeremy McCarthy, was entirely _too_ happy for his own good. He was missing a few teeth, bald, and wore an eye patch. Nobody looking that way could, or should, be so happy.

"I'm a little lame, see," he said with a grin, "I ain't as spry as I used to be."

Erza smiled at him kindly. "That is fine. Can you tell us, good sir, how far the town of Littleleaf is from the station? And how we may reach there?"

"Aye, I sure can. Been waitin' three years, see?" His grin widened. "What you do is, lady, you take this here path leadin' out the station, aye? And then you take it straight as it leads you, until you find a culvert. But don't cross the culvert. No, you keep walkin', the culvert on your right, until you pass by a grove of peach trees. You enter this grove, and take the first left that comes. You take that left and you keep goin' until you see a dead tree barrin' your way. Go right, and you'll find yourself outta the grove, and the culvert on your right. But don't cross the culvert." Erza started taking notes. "Now you'll see a mill in the distance. You walk to that mill. Then you take a left and go through the carrot field. Keep goin' until you find a small pond. Go around this here pond to the right and take the first path that takes you right. You'll find yourselves in front of the culvert."

"And we don't cross," Gray said.

The man tilted his head. "Nawp, you cross there. There's a small bridge, see. Anyway, you cross, and you walk straight ahead until you bump into a post. That post'll tell you how far you're away from Littleleaf."

"Culvert, peach grove, left, dead tree, right, culvert, mill, left, carrots, pond, right, right, culvert, cross, post." Erza looked up from her notes. "Is that right?"

The man nodded. "Or if you wanna save time, you can just step out and get on Johnny's dogcart. I know you city folks're always in a hur–"

Latching on to Erza's bicep, Gray dragged her out of the station and towards the dogcart waiting under the shade of a tree. _No wonder people don't come here._

"Where to?" the dogcart driver asked once they'd taken a seat. While he didn't seem all giddy like the station-master, he seemed happy, too. Gray's bad feelings intensified.

"The Old Church in Littleleaf," Erza replied. "Do you know it? We are to meet someone named Joshua there."

"Yeah, I know it."

"Is it far?"

"Nah. Just around the bend over yonder."

Gray asked, "Do we hafta cross a culvert or not?"

Johnny looked at him, confused. "What culvert?"

"Uh-huh." He got up to hop off. "When's the next train outta here?"

Erza grabbed his coat and stopped him. "You will sit, Gray. The village needs our help. We have to save it from disappearing."

"Sure look like a lively bunch for folks whose village is about'ta disappear," Gray muttered but said nothing more. The cart rolled along the dirt road, and the vibrant green fields soon mollified him. Annoying as the station-master was, the place was rather pretty. It was calm. A cool breeze ruffled his hair and made the fluffy clouds on high mosey along lazily. It made for excellent napping conditions.

Johnny stopped his horse at the foot of a small hill and pointed at the top with his whip. "Up top's the Old Church. Over the hill is Littleleaf. My horse is old, so I don't want to strain him."

"That's all right. How much for the ride?"

As Erza settled the accounts, Gray started walking up the hill. Having worked up a slight sweat by the climb, he leant his forearms against the low stone wall that guarded the church. He stood there and let the wind whisk away his exhaustion.

It was an idyllic landscape – the grey old church with its clustering ivy and its quaint carved wooden porch, the white lane winding down the hill between tall rows of elms, the thatched-roof cottages peeping above their trim-kept hedges, the silver river in the hollow, the wooded hills beyond – it all made him feel calm and noble. At that moment, Gray felt like he didn't want to be sinful anymore. He would move to Littleleaf and lead a peaceful and blameless life, full of spiritual fulfilment.

In that moment, he forgave all his friends and relations. Even Natsu. He forgave them of all their dumbassery, and blessed them. Of course, they did not _know_ that he had blessed them. They went their abandoned way all unconscious of what he, far away in this peaceful village, was doing for them; but he did it, and wished that he could let them know that he had done it, because he wanted to make them happy. Gray was going on thinking away all these grand, tender thoughts, when his reverie was broken in upon by a shrill piping voice crying out:

"All right, sur, I'm a-coming, I'm a-coming. It's all right, sur; don't you be in a hurry."

He looked up and saw old bald-headed man hobbling across the churchyard towards him, carrying a bunch of keys that jumped and jingled with every step.

 _What now?_

"I'm a-coming, sur, I'm a-coming," the man screeched as he advanced. Gray frowned. "My missis never see you till just this minute. You follow me, sur."

"And go where?"

He seemed surprised. "Don't you want to see the tombs?"

"No, I don't," Gray replied. "Why'd I wanna see tombs?"

"Are you sure you don't be wantin' to see the tombs, sur?"

"Yes. I want to stand here, leaning against this gritty old wall. My head's full of beautiful and noble thoughts now, so don't ruin it."

He was bewildered for a moment. He rubbed his eyes, and looked hard at Gray. He said: "Yuise a stranger in these parts? You don't live here?"

"No," Gray replied, starting to get irritated. " _You_ wouldn't if I did."

"Well then," he said, "you want to see the tombs — graves — folks been buried, you know — coffins!"

All the beautiful and noble thoughts he'd built up, all his desires to be non-violent and lead a pure life, they all came burning down. Gray grimaced. "I don't wanna see tombs — not _your_ tombs. Why should I? We have graves of our own, our family has. Why, my teacher Ul has a tomb in Saints Cemetery. It's the pride of all that country-side. And my father's vault is capable of accommodating _eight_ visitors, while my mother Mika has a brick grave in Bergstad Churchyard, with a headstone with a coffee-pot sort of thing in bas-relief upon it, and a six-inch best white stone coping all the way round, that cost jewels. When I want graves, it is to _those_ places that I go and revel. I don't want other folk's. When you yourself are buried, I'll come and see yours. That's all I can do for you."

The man burst into tears. He said that one of the tombs had a bit of stone upon the top of it that had been said by some to be probably part of the remains of the figure of a man, and that another had some words, carved upon it, that nobody had ever been able to decipher.

Gray still remained obdurate, and, in broken-hearted tones, the old man said, "Well, won't you come and see the memorial window?"

He would not even see that, so the man fired his last shot. He drew near, and whispered hoarsely:

"I've got a couple of skulls down in the crypt," he said, "come and see those. Oh, do come and see the skulls! You are a young man out for a holiday, and you want to enjoy yourself. Come and see the skulls!"

Then Gray turned and fled, and as he sped, he heard him calling: "Oh, come and see the skulls; come back and see the skulls!"

 _Coming here was a mistake! They're all nuts! I'm outta here!_

He saw Erza speaking to an old lady on his mad dash back. Erza glanced up and hailed him, but he didn't stop.

"Gray! Gray, where're you going?!" she cried as he shot past.

"Home!" he shouted back over his shoulder.

"There are no trains for three days!"

Skidding to a halt, Gray whirled around, his brain refusing to translate Erza's words. "What."

"There are no trains for three days," she repeated, unimpressed. "And why are you running? We came to help."

"They don't need help, they're perfectly healthy!" He twirled his right index finger beside his temple. "Problems upstairs, but healthy otherwise. Besides, the village needs no help. The quest was probably a hoax. Whaddaya mean there're no trai–"

"Gray, don't be silly." She dragged him back towards the church by the arm. "These people need us."

"Yeah, well, _I_ don't need them. Or the skulls."

"Skulls?"

He quickly sketched out his encounter with the old man. Erza, after listening to everything, nodded.

"I see," she said. "It makes sense."

"What makes sense?"

"I was talking to that man's wife. Littleleaf is famous for having the largest graveyard in the district. It is a tourist destination, or rather, it was." Erza stopped walking. "Like you heard, people stopped coming. A new train line was made, and Littleleaf was soon forgotten. Their main source of income is gone. They don't need saving in the literal sense, Gray." She paused. "They will disappear if they receive no economic aid."

Gray stood silently for a moment. Then he looked around. At the churchyard, at the trees, at the clouds and the birds. He pocketed his hands.

 _Not so idyllic after all, huh?_

"So what do we do?" he asked.

Erza smiled. "We take their tours. See the tombs. Then we spread word. Get people to come here again. We have a platform, as Fairy Tail mages. We can help them."

Gray blew out a breath. The old man had come to stand beside his wife, cradling a skull in his hand like a newborn. Gray grimaced.

"Three days?"

"Three days."

The old man grinned. "You'll like them tombs, sur."

Gray lowered his face into his hands.


	4. Chapter 3

"Wait a minute," Gray said halfway through the fight and stopped. Erza, and all the skeletons surrounding them, also stopped. "Skeletons are basically dead, right?"

Erza nodded. "Right."

"How do you kill something that's already dead?"

Pursing her lips, Erza tilted her head. Some of the skeletons looked at each other and lowered their weapons also.

"I usually hit them until they are defeated," Erza mused. "But I do not know the answer." She pointed her sword at one of the skeletons. "You! How do you die if you're already dead?"

The skeleton scratched its skull. "Well. I mean. I've never thought about it."

"And how exactly can you think?" Gray asked. "You've got no brains."

"And if they have no brains, they should not have a sense of identity." Erza hummed. "What of it, skeleton? Have you a name?"

"Bob," replied the skeleton. One of the other skeletons clacked its teeth together.

"Whaddaya mean we got no sense of identity?" it asked. "We all know who we are and who each other is!"

"Yeah, but we've got no eyes, either," Bob replied. "How do we know who's who, Derek?"

Derek opened his mouth. Then closed it. He lowered his face, stroking his jaw in thought. Then he looked up.

"We got no vocal cords either," it said. "How can we talk, then?" He pointed at Gray. "Answer that, Mister Clever!"

"Yeah, you humans all spread lies and gossip about how us skeletons eat flesh," one of the other skeletons cried. "How can we eat if we've got no stomachs?!"

"Yeah! All humans do is spread lies and slander!"

"Disgusting, defamatory discrimination! You'd think they'd leave the dead alone!"

"Humans don't deserve us!"

"Damn straight!"

"Fellas!" Derek raised his hands in the air. "From this day forth, we skeletons are goin' on strike! A general strike, until the humans apologise! We ain't gonna skulk around in dungeons no more!"

"Yeah!"

"I'm with Derek!"

"No more dungeon skulking!"

"Equal rights!"

"Pensions!"

The skeletons had mobilised. Gray tried his best not to break out laughing, but Erza considered them all seriously.

"In other words, you are peacefully protesting your role in the world for better rights, yes?"

"Yeap," Derek replied.

"Have you any experience in this field?"

"Sure do!" He slapped his ribcage in pride. "I was a politician in life. Became mayor! Then them ungrateful humans hung me."

"That's the worst," Bob said. "I got electrocuted. What about you, Sam?"

"Fell off a cliff tryna catch a butterfly."

"Ouch."

Erza tapped her shield against the ground, silencing them. "If you are going to protest, then are you going to let us pass in peace?"

The skeletons looked at each other. Some of them shrugged. Then Derek nodded. "Sure, why not. It's our way of stickin' it to the man, ya feel?"

"You have our warmest thanks." She curtsied. "Thank them, Gray."

"Oh, right." Gray nodded. "Thanks, guys. Saves us a hassle."

"The quest item is down the dungeon." Bob pointed out. "You take the first left that comes. The other routes are booby trapped."

"Got it." Erza sheathed her sword. "Mayor Derek, a word."

"Ehh?"

"There is a town not far from here called Littleleaf. They flaunt the largest graveyard in the district. You should go there if you want a holiday."

 _Face, meet palm. Erza, why are you like this?_

"That's a great idea," Derek said. "Say, you ain't bad as far as humans go. You married?"

"I–I–I'm." The very tips of her ears reddened. Gray pressed his lips into a line. _Don't laugh, don't laugh._ Erza coughed into her hand. "That is to say. No. No, I am not married. No."

"Well, if you're ever in the market, my great, great grandson Billy could use a woman like you to sort him out." Derek sighed. "Whatta disappointment."

"Oh. Um." She tucked a coil of hair behind her ear. Her voice was small. It was adorable. "I am flattered. Uh."

Taking a deep breath, Gray decided it was time to rescue her. So, he put his arm around her shoulders and said, "She's already got someone, fellas. Billy will hafta find someone himself."

Erza gawked at him in wide-eyed surprise. Derek also looked him up and down.

"You?" he asked. "That's surprising. She don't look like the kinda woman to fall for someone like you. But I guess weirder things have happened."

Gray felt his eye twitch. Sure, Jellal was front and centre on Erza's mind, but _someone like him_? Why did everyone think that? What was so fundamentally un-Erza-able about him?

"You're one to talk," he returned. "You don't even have muscles or skin to hold you together."

Derek reared up. "That's…" he began, finger raised, but soon lowered it, "accurate." He looked back at his friends. "That's new. What _is_ holding us together, like? Bob?"

"Nothing, basically," Gray went on. "Your joints don't even have glue. You could fall apart any moment."

And then, to his surprise, Derek _did_ explode into a pile of bones. His skull, lying atop the pile, said, "Dang it."

"What happened?" Erza asked.

"That's how skeletons die," Bob said sadly. "Excess existential thought."

Erza knelt by Derek's bones. "Will you be okay?"

"Take me a month or so to reform, but I'll be fine, madam."

"You should definitely go to Litteleaf. They have an assorted collection of skulls."

"I just might. I just might. Bob, pick up my skull, would'ja?" Bob did so, and held Derek at level with Gray's face. "That was a dirty trick."

"Was it?" Gray smiled. "You have nothing keeping you together, nothing keeping you alive. In fact, you don't even _know_ if you're real." He glanced over all the skeletons. "Are _either_ of you real? Do _any_ of you exist? Can you _prove_ it? You think therefore you are, sure, but you don't even have a brain, so are you really thinking?" He paused. "Are you _really_ real?"

To his delight, all the skeletons fell to pieces. A collective groan echoed throughout the dungeon. Erza crossed her arms and stared at him. Gray shrugged.

"Dungeon cleared." He pocketed his hands and started walking. "Now let's get that item and go back. I'm hungry."

Questing had suddenly become fun.


	5. Chapter 4

The goblins shuddered and started backing away. Erza, with a shake of her finger, stopped them. She pointed at the goblin holding the boot. It looked up at her. She pointed at the boot. Then she pointed at the ground.

Trembling all over, the goblin placed the boot on the ground. When it looked up again, Erza nodded. The goblins then broke ranks and fled, screaming and crying.

Gray sighed. The sight of a few thousand sharp implements of death hanging in the air, waiting to rain down on you usually inspired that very response. When Erza made all her weapons disappear and picked up the boot, he asked, "Why are you the way that you are?"

She tilted her head, dusting off the boot. "What do you mean?"

"You didn't hafta _traumatise_ them."

"Oh. We always try negotiations, but they lead to a showdown anyway. Why waste time?"

Silently, he conceded the point. _Don't enable her, damn it!_ But wasting time was never something Erza did. _Unless_ it involved cake. Then all bets were off. Then again, wasting time over dumbass quests like these made no sense, either. All of the quests so far had been like that. Rescue potatoes here, take a tour there, fetch magical items here and there. Gray _hated_ fetch quests. They were the bane of his very existence.

"That completes the two quests from _The Marvellous Museum of Magical Memorabilia_." Erza happily ticked off the quest request. "Now, we just have to return them."

The museum housed interesting artefacts, it was true, but most were _too_ interesting to be useful. A necklace that only made your head appear to be the opposite sex, a torch that only stays lit underwater, shy undergarments that disappear when seen… why Torasa, the curator, would collect junk like that was beyond him.

She never went and procured the goods personally, of course. After all, guilds existed for a reason. Who better than mages to delve into dungeons and bring shit back? Or steal them from others, as was the case.

Gray sighed. _At least she pays well._

The item the skeletons had been guarding was a club. The Club of Love, Torasa had said. It healed whoever it struck. The harder you hit, the more it healed. As for the boot…

"The Boots of Blinding Speed will _finally_ be on display for all to see!" Erza said as she stored it in her pocket dimension. "Aren't you excited?"

"Sure. One half of boots that, when worn, make you run very fast. While making you blind." Gray rolled his eyes. "A real gift to the world. Gods, I _hate_ weird enchantments."

Erza chuckled. "It's still helping others and it still pays. Can you complain?"

"No," Gray confessed and fell into step beside her as they started making their way back. "But I was expecting something more challenging, y'know? This stuff is a cak-" He coughed. "Really easy."

"Is that bad?" She looked at him seriously. "Are you not having fun, Gray?"

"Uhh." Gray scratched his cheek, considering his options. She _had_ picked out the quests. Telling her they were useless would probably be injurious to his health. "I wouldn't say _that_. I mean, you said this'd help me get to S-class. So far, all we've done is fetch quests. And you do most of the work as it is. I just feel like furniture sometimes."

"I see." She nodded to herself. "I understand your concern, Gray, but I have decided to do these quests in ascending order of difficulty. I did this to ease you into them. Your involvement will increase as we progress."

"Yeah, I get it, and I appreciate it, but I think after all we've been through, I can handle myself in tougher situations."

"So, what do you suggest? That we go out of order to do something more challenging?"

Gray nodded. "If it's not _too_ much trouble."

Erza fished out her thick roll of requests and started going through them. "I'll consider it."

He leaned over. "How many of those d'you have?"

She pulled them away from him. "Enough."

"Just askin'. What even is your process of picking quests?"

"My process? I…" She trailed off, humming. "I picked them randomly."

Gray said nothing to that. Calling her out on her lie would achieve nothing. Erza liked structure. Her book of recipes was arranged alphabetically, with key ingredients highlighted with different colours, and then cross-referenced with these colours/ingredients in mind. No way would she just pick quests randomly. _Especially_ if her aim was to train him.

"Gray?"

"Hmm?"

"You don't find fetch quests fun, do you?"

"Not particularly, no."

"All right." She nodded. "Then we shall discard the rest of level F and go up to E."

Gray stared at her. "You have levels."

"Of course," she scoffed as if it was the most obvious thing. He fought the urge to smack his forehead. "I believe I have found our next quest, too."

"It's not a fetch quest, right?"

"No."

Sighing in relief, Gray covertly pumped his fist. "What're we doing, then?"

Erza smiled cryptically. "I'll let you find out, mm? You are _sure_ to enjoy yourself."

It was then that Gray realised that he had bitten off more than he could probably chew.

 _Good Gods protect my innocent soul._


	6. Chapter 5

Gray was not impressed. " _This_ is Level E?"

Lying on a deckchair beside him, Erza nodded. "Yes."

"I expected something like going after bandits. Or a wyvern hunt." He frowned moodily. "Not this."

"Are you dissatisfied with my choice, Gray?"

"Didn't say that," he replied, sinking into his chair rebelliously. "I just don't see how this has got anything to do with S-class training."

It was true. S-Class quests had to do with going outside and actually _doing_ shit. That was what Erza always did. He was pretty sure _she_ never went and sat behind a desk. Unlike him.

And it was a perfect day to be out and about, too! The sun was shining, the birds were chirping. To be forced to stay indoors was a crime! Gray wanted to protest on behalf of all the white-collar workers of the world.

"It might not be apparent, but this _is_ important," he heard Erza say. "Would you like me to explain my reasoning?"

"Please."

Putting aside the magazine she'd been leafing through, Erza looked up at him. "Your magic isn't ideal for brute force approaches. That isn't your style, either. You are brilliantly creative with how you use your magic, Gray, and I have always admired it."

Gray cleared his throat. "Uhh. Thanks."

"You're welcome. My point is that you use your wits to win, unlike Natsu and I. You rely very heavily on your imagination. Your magic caters to this." She nodded to herself. "And that is why we are here."

"At an ad agency?"

"Correct. Advertising is the epitome of creativity. Posters and slogans, pictures and words, and with just that, you are compelled to buy things you don't need." Erza shook her head. "Truly daunting."

 _You would know_ , he thought, but kept it to himself. "In that case, should we really be advocating it?"

"Absolutely. It's for a good cause."

Gray sighed and looked down at his desk. A new bakery was being opened. His job was to come up with a few catchy slogans. So far, he had nothing.

"This and Ice Make are nothing alike," he mumbled belligerently. "I can't do this."

"On the field, you don't get to choose when and when not your creativity works. Especially on S-Class quests." She picked up the magazine. "You owe it to yourself to always be ready. No matter what, you _must_ be prepared to act, even if you don't know how. Your life, and those of others, might depend on it."

"Well, couldn't you at least give me a coupla ideas?"

" _You_ were the one who complained about feeling like furniture. Enjoy your increased involvement."

Gray silently glowered at her. _This is_ not _what I had in mind and you know it!_

"The faster you finish, the faster we can leave," she added without looking up. Gray immediately turned towards his desk. _Did she hear my thoughts? What even_ are _you?_ He picked up the pencil. _Best not tempt her any more._

So, Gray dropped his cheek into his hand and got to work. The agency person had told him the basics of advertising. There were theories and models. The psychology was interesting, he wouldn't lie, but he wasn't equipped to handle it. Not with so little training.

 _The main thing is to get their attention_ , the guy had said. _If they're thinking about it and talking about it, then the campaign was successful_. Gray had to agree. Erza was mostly thinking about cake. What magic the cruel confections had worked on her, he didn't know.

Sighing out of his nose, Gray scribbled atop the page in tiny letters: _aidas_.

Attention. Interest. Desire. Action. Satisfaction. AIDAS. The model on which all advertising was based. _Catch their attention, generate interest, make them desire it, get them to buy, and make sure they're satisfied._ On top of that, there was doing market research, catering to the target audience… it was all so complicated.

He twirled the pencil between his fingers. What was so great about cake? He glanced at Erza. What _did_ she like about cake so much? The number of times he'd seen her smiling to herself while licking the spoon… she took her cake very seriously. It was pretty cute, as far he was concerned. The thought made him smile.

She was reading an article with interest now, her brows arched and lips pursed. Maybe it was about swords. Or armour. Whatever it was, she seemed really invested. Gray had always liked her focus and determination. She got worked up about the darnedest things. Cake, most of all.

 _Ah well_ , he thought, shrugging. _Whatever makes her happy_.

He'd seen her cry too many times. If cake kept the tears away, then it was good enough. Apparently, cake was a mood enhancer. For Erza, anyway.

Smiling, he wrote down _mood_ at the bottom of the page.

 _A good mood food._

Gray straightened. Then he wrote down _food_ beside _mood_. He stared at the words, his smile widening.

 _Eureka!_

Suddenly, he had an idea. A catchy slogan he would deliver, all right. But would that suffice? He glanced at Erza again.

 _She_ was the target audience. She was a cake fanatic. What did Erza like? How would he sell a cake to Erza? _She'll eat anything remotely related to cakes. She's easy like that_. Gray shook his head. Erza represented the cake loving public. How would he catch her attention? How would he hold her interest? How would he make her desire–

 _Don't go there. Nothing good ever came of thinking about that._

Gray tapped the pencil against the desktop. Erza had always been the one to catch and keep his attention. She'd had it ever since she first walked into the guild. She kept it through all the times she'd handed him his ass. He'd wanted to be like her. He'd worked towards that, pushing himself harder and harder through the years.

 _But what about satisfaction?_

He had no answer to that.

Again, he turned his gaze towards her. She was still reading. Probably didn't notice him staring. _For the best_. He didn't want to make her uncomfortable.

The human eye was a marvel. It gathered information so accurately that Gray sometimes didn't know what to do with it. This visual information, once collected, could be recalled innumerable times. _Sometimes involuntarily_. And one of the most haunting images he could recall was of Erza crying. He never wanted it to happen again.

But he remembered every detail. He could visualise it behind his lids no problem.

The human eye was indeed a marvel. When people were sad, it leaked water. It made no sense. But it made his heart clench. Every time.

His fingers moved before he knew what he was doing. The lead danced over the paper, independent of his thoughts. Gray let it. He didn't overthink it.

The room was silent other than Erza's soft breathing, the turning of pages and the scratching of pencil on paper. Gray didn't mind. It all added to the atmosphere. He worked steadily for two hours before he was satisfied with what he had. He made minor adjustments, but the overall concept was finished.

Erza looked up as he leant back and stretched. "Are you done?"

"Yep."

"Can I see?"

"Be my guest."

Putting her magazine down on her lap, Erza reached out and took the sheet of foolscap from his desk. Gray closed his eyes, his fingers interlaced behind his head. He heard a sharp intake of breath.

"Gray, this is…"

"Yeah." Words alone wouldn't have done it. Not everybody was a fanatic like Erza. They'd need something more. Something visual. "You like it?"

"I… I don't know what to say." Her voice was quiet. "I didn't know you could draw this well."

Gray shrugged. "Ice Make is about visualising. You can't create something you can't see in your head. You need to know every detail. Starting out, it was hard." He opened his eyes and stared up at the ceiling. "So, Ul had me draw. Sketch stuff, you know. Helped me think in shapes. I liked doing it, so I stuck with it. I used to sketch mountains and trees and snowflakes. Weapons, animals, what have you. Just practice." He glanced at her. "Think it'll work?"

"Yes," Erza replied. She was smiling gently at the paper. "I think it will."

Gray hummed. He knew what she was looking at. Four separate images, drawn in sequence. The first was of a little girl crying by herself. The next one showed her looking at a cake that had appeared at her side as if by magic. In the third image, she was taking a tentative bite. The final one showed her smiling happily, eyes closed and hand on cheek in wonderment. Below were the words: _Sweet Food to Lift Your Mood_.

It wasn't a revolutionary idea or anything. Really, it was pretty simple. But simple ideas usually worked best.

"C'mon, then," Gray said and rose to his feet. "Let's submit it and get out. I don't wanna spend all day cooped up in here."

Chuckling, Erza followed suit. "I agree. I think you did a fantastic job, Gray. You gave more than what they asked, so a bump in pay is in order."

"It's fine-"

"Nonsense! Hard work must _always_ be rewarded!" She held up a determined fist. "Haggling is also a requirement for an S-Class mage. I shall show you how it's done."

With that, Erza strode off towards the door. Gray watched her go and laughed quietly before following her.

She hadn't commented on how the girl in his ad bore an uncanny resemblance to herself when she was that age. And he was grateful for that.


	7. Chapter 6

"Gather around," Erza said and clapped her hands. The children didn't need telling twice. "Now, who wants to hear a story?"

Cries of "Me!" and "Yay!" and "Story!" filled the air. Gray smiled to himself.

"All right." She sat down on the grass and the kids all sat around her in a circle. There was some pushing and shoving to be at the front, but that was normal. "What about a story about a dragon?"

At the tumultuous agreement, she grinned and a book appeared in her hand out of thin air. _One of the many adaptations of her adventures, probably_. Writers were always keen on novelising the exploits of popular mages. And Erza was, well, Erza. Titania was in a class of her own.

Most of the kids were attending this impromptu storytelling session. Erza had told him to interact with them, but there weren't any left to talk to. Even in an orphanage, Erza Scarlet was a celebrity.

Gray watched her read dramatically to the kids for a while before walking away silently. The orphanage was run by the Church. Every day, the kids were taken to the park for a couple of hours. _All work and no play makes you wanna die._

What this quest was even about, Gray didn't know. Erza had dragged him there without giving him detailed instructions.

 _Talk to them_ , she'd said. _Help any who need it_.

Again, he didn't see why this counted as S-Class training. But he'd stopped asking. He was sure she had her reasons. Gray trusted her. Besides, while he didn't really get kids, he wouldn't have said no.

So, he decided to take a stroll around the park. He saw a few children here and there. Playing games like catch or tag. Some were on swings or seesaws or merry-go-rounds. He couldn't see any that needed help of any kind. _Always a good thing_. The less suffering, the better.

Spotting a pond in the middle of the park, Gray started walking towards it. A few kids were splashing around in the shallows under the supervision of an older boy. He smiled. It _was_ a hot day. Some others were racing paper boats. Nobody was drowning. Nobody was holding anybody else down.

 _Man, these kids are tame._

Back in his time, he and Natsu had terrorised the guild hall all day, every day. It was just how they were. That they could do something constructive instead hadn't occurred to them.

In contrast, the boy watching over the kids in the pond was gluing sticks to coloured paper. Gray sat down on his haunches near him.

"Whatcha got there?" he asked.

The boy glanced at him and returned to his work. "I'm making kites."

"Oh?" Gray had never flown a kite before. "How's it going?"

"Not bad." He shrugged. "You're with Miss Scarlet, right?"

"Mhmm. I'm Gray." He held out his hand. "And you?"

"Jon." The boy took it. He looked about thirteen. Maybe a little older. "Are you from Fairy Tail, too?"

"Sure am."

"What kind of magic do you use?"

"I make stuff with ice."

"Cool." The boy stood up. "Will you help me fly this thing?"

"Uh, sure." He got up as well. "What do I gotta do?"

Jon handed him a large coil of string. "Hold this," he said. "As the kite climbs, feed it more and more string."

"That's it?"

"That's it." Jon then held the kite aloft and took off at a run. He ran against the wind, holding the string in one hand, and soon enough, the kite took to the air. It soared and fluttered, almost like a flag, and Gray couldn't help the grin forming on his face as it climbed higher and higher. Jon controlled its trajectory by pulling the strings. The kids got up from the pond and circled him, asking him to make it go here and there. With a smile on his face, Jon complied.

A little ways behind him, Gray stood and watched. He let out more string when the line grew taut. There was something magical about it. Just a mishmash of paper and sticks, thriving and climbing towards the heavens. _Who woulda thought?_

Gray didn't know how much time had passed, but soon, a bell starting ringing. The younger kids all started running towards where Erza sat. Jon started pulling his kite down, too.

"That's the gong for lunch," he explained.

"Don't _you_ gotta go?"

Jon shook his head. "Not yet."

"Not hungry?"

"I still have to build another for…" he trailed off into a mumble. Gray blinked.

"A gift?" he prompted and was rewarded by a blush breaking across Jon's face.

"Yeah."

"For a friend?"

"Yeah."

"Good. I'm sure they'll appreciate it."

He was clearly embarrassed, so Gray didn't push it. Jon was about that age when butterflies started to flutter in your stomach. He knew how that went.

 _I wish I had advice for you, kid. I have no clue how to go about it, either._

"Sarah."

"Hmm?"

"Her name's Sarah."

"Oh." Jon glanced at him expectantly. Gray smiled. "I'm sure she'll appreciate it."

"Yeah." He sounded a little deflated. "I hope so."

Gray hummed. "You don't sound convinced."

"Yeah, well." The boy sighed as the kite landed. He started walking towards it. Gray followed. "Never mind."

Sighing, Gray scratched his cheek. Asking the all-important question would make him clam up even further. So, deciding to wait, he asked, "You know each other long?"

A nod. "We grew up together, I guess."

"So what's the problem?"

With another, deeper sigh, Jon picked up the kite. "We've always been good friends. But now things are getting different."

Gray said nothing.

"It's like… I don't know. I get all weird when I talk to her. Sweaty and everything. The others make fun of me." He shook his head. "It's all weird."

"Did you get the talk yet?"

"The talk?" He tilted his head quizzically. "What talk?"

"Y'know. _The_ Talk."

"Oh." He chuckled. "Yeah, I know, don't worry." Gray felt his shoulders relax. "I don't like the change, that's all." He started walking back to the pond where he'd left his materials. "Also…"

"Hmm?"

"She's not into me. Not in that way." _Ahh_. "She hangs out with other kids most of the time. I just feel..."

"Left out," Gray finished for him. "You know, it's pretty normal. She makes new friends, you make new friends. That's what being young is all about."

"I'm getting adopted."

Gray looked down at him. "When?"

"Two weeks."

 _Damn. Hence the gift_. "I see."

"Yeah. I'll still be in town, so I asked her if she wanted to fly kites with me. We could exchange messages that way." He knelt to pick up his things but sat down instead. "She said she'd like it. So, I was…"

Gray heard him sniffle. Saw him drag his shirt over his face and pretended not to. He wondered what he could say. He sucked at words. Always had. He didn't know how people did it.

Taking a deep breath, he closed his eyes. He thought back to when he was around Jon's age. A similar situation had presented itself back then, too. A child crying by the water. _Is that a thing now? It's always by the water, too._

So, he did what he'd done back then and sat down beside Jon. The boy didn't look at him. Gray didn't look his way either. Instead, he reached out and took a fistful of sand from the pond's bank. Held it up.

"You see this?" Jon looked up. "You see the sand leaking through my fingers?"

"Yeah."

Gray clenched his fist tightly. "Sometimes, the harder you hold on to something, the faster it slips away." He opened his fist and let all the sand fall. "All you can do is let go."

"But Miss Scarlet says we should never give up. Isn't letting go the same as giving up?"

With a wistful smile, Gray hummed. _Is it, I wonder?_ "No, Jon. You're going away. You can't change that. Right?"

"Right."

"You going away means you two won't be seeing each other every day. That'll change your relationship. Your interactions will change. Get more limited. Maybe you won't talk at all for days. Or weeks." He looked out at the pond. "You'll miss her a lot. It'll hurt. I won't lie. _Any_ change is difficult. Especially when new people will enter her life." He paused. "Yours as well. What matters is how you deal with it."

He dusted his hand against his trouser. "You have to let go of what was in order to welcome what's to come. Like exchanging old clothes for new ones." He smiled to himself. "But be sure to be there for her. Show her that you're capable and dependable. And always work to stay in her life. If she's important to you, you'll find a way." He looked at Jon. "If she feels the same way, she'll do the same."

Jon blushed and looked down at the ground. Gray put his hand around the boy's shoulders.

"Let go of what you can't control," he said quietly. "Never give up on what you _can_."

 _And hope for the best._

Jon leant his head on his shoulder, but said nothing. The sun was starting to set, but he made no move to get up. Gray heard the crunching of grass behind them, and glanced over his shoulder to find Erza. She stopped upon being spotted and raised her eyebrows.

 _What's going on? All okay?_

Gray cracked a smile and shook his head imperceptibly.

 _It's all right. Under control._

At that, Erza smiled back and nodded. Gray patted Jon's shoulder.

"It's getting late. I've gotta check you in now."

"Right." Jon moved immediately. He'd gathered up his things by the time Gray stood up.

"Does Erza come by here a lot?" he asked the boy as they made their way to where she stood waiting.

"About once or twice a month. Sometimes, she cooks for all of us. Sometimes, she teaches us how to fight." Jon nodded to himself. "She's nice. I like her."

"Yeah." _I do, too_. "She is, isn't she? She was pretty different when she was young."

"You knew her?"

Gray smiled at him. "We grew up together."

Jon considered this for a long moment before breaking into a grin himself.

Erza met them with a scowl. Gray knew it was for show, but it was still intimidating.

"You shouldn't skip meals," she scolded the boy lightly. " _Neither_ of you should." She turned her glare on Gray. He didn't protest. "It's not healthy."

"Yes, ma'am," Jon and he replied in unison.

Erza sighed. "Boys never grow up. Run along now. Don't keep the others waiting. They'll worry."

With a nod, Jon made to take off, but turned back.

"Will you be back?" he asked Gray seriously.

"Sure," he replied with a chuckle. "Teach me how to fly a kite."

Jon grinned widely. "Sure will!" Then he ran towards the orphanage. Gray watched him go, smiling.

 _Good luck, kid._

"So," Erza began, snatching his attention away. "You seem to have had fun?"

Gray shrugged. "You could say that, I guess."

She nodded, apparently satisfied with herself. "Good. Come, then. Let's be on our way. More quests await!"

"Uh-huh." As he fell into step behind her, Gray cleared his throat. "Say, Erza."

"Mmm?"

"Can I see the request for this particular quest?"

She walked in silence. Didn't say anything.

"Erza?"

"Some things… they don't require requests," she said quietly. Gray lengthened his stride so he could walk beside her. "Some things you just do."

He remained silent.

"As an S-Class mage, you have the responsibility to inspire good in others. Be a beacon of hope. Something people can aspire to be." She smiled slightly. "Who knows what might happen on a quest. You may have to console people. Give advice. Children may be involved. You must be ready."

It was sound logic, but he wasn't fooled. "Hey, Erza?"

"Yes?"

"You don't have to justify this visit." He bumped her shoulder with his. "I understand."

She gave him a long look, which he met with a smile. Having no response, she huffed.

"I don't know what you mean," she muttered.

"All kids should have a mentor. A guide. I'm glad you can be that for them." Very gently, he placed his hand on her shoulder. "I'm proud of you."

 _Okay, enough sap, Fullbuster._

Gray was already in the process of pulling back when she placed her hand over his. He stared, stunned. His mind was helpfully blank.

"Erza?"

"Thank you." She turned to him, smiling brightly. "I appreciate it."

 _What do I do here? Why am I always so weird around her? Ugh!_

"Don't mention it." She released his hand and he pocketed it immediately. "You're _surprisingly_ good with kids."

"What do you _mean_ , 'surprisingly'?"

"Uhh."

"Gray?"

"Oh, look! A bakery!"

" _Where_?!"

* * *

 **A/N: You know, Guest, a name would be much appreciated xD**


	8. Chapter 7

"What the fuck," Gray said.

" _Language_!" Erza hissed. Then she bowed apologetically to their client. "I'm sorry, you were saying?"

"Oooo-hoo-hoo-hoo!" the ghost replied. "I don't mind! I'm just glad somebody took notice of my request. Oooo-hoo-hoo-hoo!"

"Okay, first off," Gray pointed at the ghost, " _stop_ that. You're _not_ scary. Stop pretending to be. It's embarrassing. Secondly, what's your name?"

"Vrooooo-hoo-hoo-hoo-man!"

It was official. He hated this ghost.

"Vrooman, was it?" Erza asked. The ghost nodded. "All right. Well, Vrooman, what can we do for you?"

"Ooo-" the ghost began, but stopped after glancing at Gray. "As I was saying, hoohoo, I was killed before I could do all the things I wanted. That's why I can't be at peace."

"And you want us to do your shit for you, is that it?"

" _Gray_!"

"Hoohoo. Indeed," Vrooman said. "Your first task-"

"Hold it." Gray raised his hand. "'First?' There are multiple?"

Erza elbowed him in the ribs. And not gently. He shut up after that.

"You see, directly opposite this haunted house lives an old lady," said Vrooman. "When I was alive, she was, how to say, the _most promiscuous_ woman in town."

"You're calling an old lady a slut," Gray said, despite himself.

"If we're going to be politically incorrect, I can call her a _lot_ of things. Hoohoo."

"Let's just focus on the briefing," Erza said impatiently, tapping her foot.

Vrooman went on: "See, she was sleeping with both me and my best friend at the same time. In this incorporeal form, I can do her no physical injury." It paused. "But _you_ can."

"I refuse to harm anyone," Erza declared immediately.

"I'm not asking you to hurt her! Or even touch her! Honest!"

"Then what would you have us do?"

"Bother her. I want you to go over there and knock on her door."

"And?"

"And run away."

Erza blinked. "What."

"Just knock on her door and run away!" Vrooman sounded excited. "You must've done that before when you were kids!"

"So, what, we just knock on her door and run away?" Gray asked. "Then we're done?"

"Hoohoo. Yes. But you have to keep doing it all night. I want to ruin that bitch's sleep!"

"Language!" Erza scolded the ghost, almost out of reflex. "Basically, you want us to harass a senior citizen."

"Hoohoo. Yes."

Slowly, very slowly, Gray lowered his face into his palm.

"Gray, what do you think we should do?"

His head shot up at the question. Erza was staring at him. "Seriously? You're considering doing this?"

"It _is_ a quest." She shrugged. "And it _will_ set him free."

"You trust this floating blanket?"

"I'm Hooffended."

"Fuck off. You're a see-through blanket with eye holes. You can't even be a ghost properly. What, were you on a budget?"

The ghost lowered its face. _Yeah, be ashamed._ He turned to Erza. "You really wanna do it?"

"We could knock very lightly. So as to not disturb her. The quest stated we had to knock and run away. It did not specify sound levels."

"That's cheating!" Vrooman wailed.

Gray ignored it. "Can we do that?"

"Finding loopholes is important for any S-Class mage."

"But staying up all night, though…"

"We can knock twice per hour and use the interval to rest."

"Y'know, that might just work."

"But that's not what I wanted," cried Vrooman.

"Shut up!" Erza snapped. "Be grateful we are even _considering_ this farce! You should be _ashamed_ of yourself! Such infantile behaviour is inexcusable!" She placed her hands on her hips. "She is an old lady now. Have some decency."

"She slept with half the town! Wrecked half the families here! Then she'd blackmail the men into giving her money!"

"I don't care. It takes two to tango. Those men were _just_ as culpable."

The ghost visibly deflated. "Boo-hoo! I'm just a poor ghost, nobody loves me."

Gray groaned. "I think we should do it. If he's at peace, at least he won't be around to bother anyone else."

Erza nodded. "I was thinking the same thing. All right, Vrooman. We accept your quest. We shall knock at the woman's door and run away."

"All through the night?" The excitement in its voice was palpable. "Loudly?"

"We shall see. Disturbing her neighbours is-"

"She's got no neighbours. She's a crabby old whore."

"I swear," Erza muttered, massaging her temples. "Gray, let's go before I exorcise Vrooman."

"I don't ever wanna be a ghost," Gray muttered as he left the haunted house.

"Then don't leave behind any regrets."

 _Easy for you to say_. "I'm gonna go get a flask of coffee for the night. You want anything?"

"Cake."

"…you had cake for dinner."

"So what? Actually, I'll come with you. I don't trust you to buy cake for me. Your taste buds are underdeveloped."

And so, after loading up on six slices of strawberry cake, and buying enough to last her through the night, Erza emerged from the bakery happily. Gray could only sigh.

"Is cake your comfort food or something?" he asked as they made their way back.

"No. It's just good." She smiled languidly. "And soft. And sweet. And-"

 _Oh, there she goes on her cake ramble again_. Gray had heard it thousands of times before, but he always listened. It amused him to see her so excited. She looked really cute, gesticulating as she spoke, bathed in the soft moonlight. It glinted off her earrings, lighting up her face even more. Her hair swayed in the breeze, and she sometimes reached up to tuck he coils behind her ears. It never stayed there. Nothing swayed her enthusiasm, though. Only cake could make her like that.

 _Yeah. Only cake_.

Gray sipped his coffee. "Well, off I go to knock."

"Mhmm. Don't knock any louder than you have to."

"Got it."

So he went and knocked. Merely touched his knuckles to the door twice. Then he turned and walked away.

 _This is the worst quest I have ever done._

Erza had by then conjured up a large tent in the haunted house's lawn. "It is likely to get cold during the night."

"No, good thinking." He offered her the flask upon stepping inside. "Coffee?"

She shook her head. "I have my cake. A sugar high does the job well enough."

He couldn't argue that. "Just don't get diabetes."

Erza waved it off. "I get enough exercise."

"You need it."

"Excuse me?"

"I mean, _everybody_ does."

Humming to herself, Erza then pulled out two bedrolls from her pocket dimension. "Feel like sleeping?"

"What about you?"

"I'll wake you up when I need the rest."

Gray thought it over, but shook his head. He sat down on one of the bedrolls and kicked off his shoes. "I'm good. This kinda feels like a sleepover."

"You call _that_ knocking?" Vrooman asked as it materialised into the tent. "That wasn't knocking!"

"Ahh, see, we even have uninvited guests." Gray pointed at the ghost. "How realistic."

Erza sighed. "Your quest will be done once this woman's sleep is disturbed, right?"

"Yes."

"You'll leave us alone then?"

"On my honour as a ghost."

"Fine. Gray, hold my cake."

 _Uh-oh_. Gray had a very bad feeling as Erza stormed out of the tent. He held her box of cake, debating whether or not to follow her. But then he heard a loud crash, followed by very shrill shouting, and finally, blessed silence.

Gray gulped. Erza couldn't have… murdered her…?

"Now _that's_ what I call a knock! Hoohoo!"

"Just… just shut up."

Before long, Erza returned. She didn't seem bothered at all.

"What'd you do?" Gray asked.

"Ehh." With a shrug, she sat down beside him. Took her cake from him. "I kicked down her door, she shouted, I knocked her out and fixed her door." She glared at the ghost. "Now go away."

"Hoohoo! You've made me very happy! Come by tomorrow and I'll give you your next task!"

And with that, Vrooman vanished. Gray turned to regard Erza.

"You knocked her out?"

"Pressure points."

Gray shook his head. "Why are you the way that you are?"

"My quietude comes first."

"You should put that on a shirt."

"I just might." She stored the box of cake in her pocket dimension before stretching and yawning. "No need to stay up all night anymore. Good night, Gray."

And with that, she retired to her bedroll. She was asleep within minutes.

Gray stared at her sleeping face for a long moment. A chuckle escaped him. A long time ago, he'd thought to himself how she looked pretty when she was calm.

 _Not much has changed in that regard. She still falls asleep too damn quickly._

Having nothing else to do, he settled down to sleep as well. He sincerely hoped he wouldn't be woken up by the ghost. Or the authorities.

"G'night, Erza," he mumbled and closed his eyes. "Here's to not going to jail."


End file.
